Boy in a Girl's Body

Chapter 5

Song: "XO Skeleton" - A Skylit Drive

Darcy had walked me to my first period class, seemingly not hearing the slurs and rude remarks directed at me. Almost like everything bounced off of her, like she had a protective bubble around her. I needed to find out her secret. Darcy wasn't like any girl I had ever met, she talked about things that I had no clue about, she listened to bands I had never heard of. She read just as much as I did and didn't seem to even care about what anyone thought about her. I could tell from the sneers that the preppy girls shot at her that she had some haters, but when I asked her about it, she just shrugged and floored me with a calm comment: I don't hate them. I don't know them well enough to, I wouldn't mind getting to know them, I'm sure they are good people. But what people don't understand scares the piss out of them, Eli. 

Darcy was more than right.  If anyone else had handed me that comment, I would have thought them to be completely full of shit. But I believe that  Darcy truely felt that way. She seemed way too genuine to lie about anything, and, there was something about her pure, honest face that made me think that she couldn't lie anyway. 

I found myself wondering more than once during my morning classes just what she thought of me. It wasn't like me to be so insecure, but her opinion really mattered to me, even though I had just met her. I could tell, on some level that Darcy would be someone very important to me. I just wish I knew it what sense.

Thankfully, gym wasn't required for seniors like myself, but that meant one extra elective. To my great horror when I had received my schedule, the even bastards that created my class list had stuck me in ROP Floral Design. Flowers....perfect.

I loved anything that required even a trace of creativity, but this seemed way out of my depth. I could feel my manhood taking a hit every time I walked into that room, arranged various flowers and other items in cherry, happy arrangements. Learning the difference between a carnations and chrysanthemums.  But I needed the career credts, and it was better than woodshop, or some other class. Besides, the teacher, Mr. P was my favorite teacher this year, hands down.

It definetly weighs in the teacher's favor when they actually posses a soul and passion. Show's they're still human, contrary to popular belief.

To make things better, Mr. P had a sense of humor and you could tell that he really enjoyed the subject he taught. That giving the same lessons to new crops of kids every year never got old for him. He really had flowers on the brain, but whatever floats your boat, I guess.

To those of us who didn't choose the course, Mr. P tried his best to make it fun for us; he made the classroom a relaxing, friendly enviornment, some place that you wanted to be. And, as much I hated flowers, I really liked being in that room. It was wide, very open, one of the few classrooms with windows, thus letting in a lot of warm sunlight. Mr. P also kept the back door propped open to provide us with a nice breeze, so we actually were allowed to breathe.

 I had floral 4th period, right before lunch, but, oddly the hour didn't drag. It was rapidly becoming my escape from the world around me and a new creative outlet. Besides, I knew Mom would love the flowers and junk I'd be bringing home. I could see her gushing over some crooked, wilting collection of flowers, tool and ribbons. Placing them in various places around the house, watering them to keep them alive. Telling me over and over just how good they smelled. 

I'm not emberassed to admit this, I couldn't wait to present the first project to her. I couldn't wait for her responce, she didn't even know I was taking ROP Floral. I couldn't wait to see the look on her face.

 I hadn't worried about telling teachers about my name change, I figured that some would be cool with it, and others would look at me like I had four noses. My Spanish teacher had glared at me, then commanded I take my seat, my English IV teacher had smiled and nodded, making a note on his role sheet, and calling me by my prefered name like it had been my name all along. Each and every time a teacher called me by my new name, a thrill went through me, it really lifted my spirits, as silly as that sounds. I started feeling more like myself, for the first time in my life. 

Mr. P had been one of the teachers that was completely supportive, telling me that I could come to him for anything at all, and that his classroom was always open if I ever needed a quiet place. It felt great knowing that someone on the faculty not only supported me, but was offering a safe haven for me, outside from the library of course. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to take Mr. P up on his offer to hide out here for a long time, if ever.

I was trying my best to keep the faith that people would move on to the next thng eventually, letting this blow over and leaving me the fuck alone. I just had to stick it out and not cause any trouble. Since I didn't have a habit of making trouble to begin with, I figured that should be easy enough.

 I was worried about one thing, though. Telling Darcy. I really was enjoying our new friendship, and I was pretty sure she'd be accepting and understanding about me, but with people, you could never be too sure. But I wanted to be honest with her, so I had to tell her today. Assuming she hadn't heard the rumors already. 

When the bell released us out to the coutyard for lunch period, I had waited for the crouds to clear from the hallway before I made my way into the sun, pondering how exactly I was going to tell Darcy.  As I walked around, looking for her sea-green and blue hair, I worried about if she even wanted to be seen eating with me. If I would be welcome at all. I hated how coming out made me second guess everything these days. I used to be so confident...